Replaced Guitar Strings
by messed up stargazer
Summary: Sequel to Broken Guitar Strings. Grantaire and Enjolras are getting a surprise. Only thing is one wants it. The other doesn't. Yes, I am trying to be vague...
1. Chapter 1

René Grantaire was slowly but surely losing her mind. She wasn't quite sure exactly what had caused this lapse in sanity but even Enjolras was noticing she was acting very differently. And when her junior partner lawyer of a husband noticed she was acting differently, that was when she knew she was really acting weird. It wasn't that Enjolras wasn't attentive, it was just the fact that he could be incredibly oblivious. It took him a week to notice that his own birthday had passed and he'd completely missed it even with the texts from his friends wishing him a happy birthday. (She loved him for it though. Belated birthday sex was incredible.) Luckily, and unfortunately, their friends were very used to this so could plan accordingly. Two out of the three years she'd been married to him, he'd forgotten. So when Enjolras started staring at her like she was insane, that was when she knew her mind had completely disintegrated.

"Princess, are you feeling okay? You've been acting bizarre lately." He asked one night.

"My boobs hurt and I am in a serious mood for cheeseburgers with tomato sauce." She answered.

"Excuse me?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh, by the way, I should mention, I'm going crazy. You might have to send me to the nuthouse sometime soon." She shrugged.

"Oh you're only going crazy again. I was worried there for a minute." He winked.

She stuck out her tongue back. "I wasn't kidding about that cheeseburger."

"Late night McDonald's run?" He offered.

"And this is why I married you." She smiled.

He returned it, kissed her, and grabbed the car keys. She didn't move from her position on the couch. Instead, she grabbed a pillow and dug it into her stomach. She heard him put the car keys down and walk away. At the moment, she didn't care. She hated cramps. They hurt. And came at the worst times. Enjolras pried the pillow away and placed a heating pad on her stomach.

"I love you." She hummed.

He chuckled. "I know."

He pressed a kiss into her hair and walked out the door. Mentally, she started counting. _10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3…2_. The door opened.

"I forgot the car keys." She didn't need to look at him to know he was blushing, but as she loved seeing him blush, she turned just to smirk at him. He glared at her.

"I don't have to get you your cheeseburger." He deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "If you want to sleep in our bed tonight, you would do well to get me the cheeseburger."

He laughed. "You wouldn't couch me."

"Don't tempt me." She shot.

"I'd only be returning the favor." He winked.

"I'm beginning to regret allowing 'Fey to teach you to speak sexual." She deadpanned.

"You didn't a few weeks ago." He hissed in her ear.

She swatted him. "Cheeseburger drowning in tomato sauce."

"All right, Princess." He laughed and headed out.

The cheeseburger was delicious.

* * *

Two mornings later, she woke Enjolras up with her having food poisoning. She felt bad. In both senses. But then the poisoning passed by afternoon. And then returned the next day. But was gone by that next afternoon.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd tell you to check if you've missed a period." Eponine teased as they met for coffee.

Monday was coffee day. Eponine had Monday mornings off from being a social worker and René never scheduled a gig on Monday morning. They always met at the Musain at ten, got their coffee and Eponine had to head to work at noon.

"I hate you." René growled. "You know I can't."

"But I do know better." Eponine grinned.

"You've been spending too much time around Courfeyrac. He taught you his patented shit-eating grin." René growled.

Eponine just laughed.

"I'm serious, Ep. I'm losing my mind here." René said.

"In all seriousness, I'm not quite sure what to tell you. I married a doctor, not the other way around. If you want I can ask him." Eponine offered.

René shook her head. "No. Ever since flu season hit, he's been swamped. I should know, you constantly keep texting me you're bored because he's not home. He doesn't need to worry about me. I'm sure I'm fine."

"If you say so." Eponine shrugged. "So when's the next gig?"

"Don't have one yet. Haven't gotten any new songs to give them. Well, that's not entirely true. But in a way it kind of is. Think of it this way. I spent most of Saturday writing a song and then Sunday I had no idea what the Hell I was thinking. It made no sense. Enjolras asked if I was on drugs or something it was _that_ bad." René groaned.

"Yikes. I thought Enjolras liked all your songs." Eponine tried

"He likes the sane ones. The ones I actually deem worthy of performance. He doesn't really understand what makes a good song just by notes without the lyrics but he tries. It'd be like you listening to exactly how 'Ferre treated a patient. You know very little of what's actually being said but you listen because it means something to him." René explained.

"That's a good way of putting it." Eponine conceded, then her cell phone rang. "Hello… Nick, calm down… where are you… are you safe… okay. I'm not too far away. I'll come by and pick you up, okay… I'll see you soon, honey. Bye."

"Go." René waved.

Eponine looked relieved. "Bye, honey. I'll text you later." She gave René a kiss on the cheek goodbye and headed to her car. She stayed behind, bringing out her journal where she wrote her songs.

_Enjolras: How's coffee?_

**Me: Ep had to go save the day. I'm just trying to write now.**

_Enjolras: Should I stop?_

**Me: No, darling, I don't mind. Nothing's coming to me anyways.**

_Enjolras: It'll come eventually._

**Me: Thanks for the support.**

_Enjolras: Was that sarcastic?_

**Me: No. I meant that.**

_Enjolras: The reason I texted was because- please don't be angry._

**Me: I promise.**

_Enjolras: Is the anniversary tomorrow or Wednesday?_

Oh God. That anniversary. God, she hated that anniversary. The day she'd been kidnapped by her stalker, Henri Montparnasse. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the minute scar on her left wrist. Montparnasse had shattered her left wrist but there was no lasting damage so she barely noticed it unless she sought out the small scar. The scar hadn't come from the break but from when they were resetting the joint. It was the only physical scar she had of the whole ordeal. On good days, it reminded her of exactly what she had survived. On bad days, it reminded her of _exactly_ what she had survived. Montparnasse was dead but her fear of him wasn't.

**Me: Wednesday.**

_Enjolras: Are you angry?_

**Me: No.**

_Enjolras: I've done something wrong._

**Me: No, it's just… still hard. I think it will always be hard. Don't expect me to get out of bed Wednesday.**

_Enjolras: That's why I'm taking the day off. To take care of you._

**Me: Honey, your cases.**

_Enjolras: Can wait a day. You're my wife. You come first. Besides, I've been thinking. I think that's why you're acting so strange. Your body is freaking out._

**Me: I hadn't thought of that. It wasn't like this last year.**

_Enjolras: You got drunk last year. And the year before that. And the three before that. And this year, you promised to cut back. See the difference?_

**Me: I don't know. I don't understand this psychological stuff. And don't ask 'Ferre. I can handle this.**

_Enjolras: If you say so._

**Me: Are your coworkers trying to ask you to go drinking with them again?**

_Enjolras: How could you tell?_

**Me: You're still texting me. You only do that when you want to avoid them without looking like a jerk.**

_Enjolras: Fauchelevent keeps pestering me. I don't know why he won't take no for an answer._

**Me: I do.**

_Enjolras: Enlighten me, please._

**Me: Because you're good company. You don't drink very much so you don't get into bar fights, you can drive people home, and you make sure everything goes smoothly.**

_Enjolras: Speaking from experience, Princess?_

**Me: I wouldn't remember. I drink too much.**

_Enjolras: No way I answer this is in my favor._

**Me: Good catch. I didn't mean to corner you but nice escape.**

_Enjolras: I'm gonna murder them all._

**Me: What happened?**

_Enjolras: Fauchelevent brought out the Christmas decorations. It's not even Thanksgiving. It's not even November._

**Me: It's not their fault your parents moved to America without telling you.**

_Enjolras: Yes it is._

**Me: LOL**

_Enjolras: Still mad._

**Me: At them or your parents?**

_Enjolras: Them. I stopped being angry at my parents years ago. It's useless._

**Me: It's the annoying Christmas songs, isn't it?**

_Enjolras: It's the damn hippo song! What kind of child wants a hippo? That makes no sense!_

**Me: You amuse me, peasant.**

_Enjolras: I'm so glad._

**Me: I'm gonna head home. You want anything from the store?**

_Enjolras: Yes coffee. You went through most of it on Saturday._

**Me: I thought we had more.**

_Enjolras: I'm not mad. I thought we had more too. Also, you went through the pickles._

**Me: Did I?**

_Enjolras: Yep._

**Me: Well, if you're right, we only have to deal with this for one more day.**

_Enjolras: ONE DAY MORE_

**Me: I don't want to hear another word. Not all songs are perfect.**

_Enjolras: And not all songs actually make sense._

**Me: Do you want coffee? Or do you want me to stick you with the horrible crap that your office calls coffee which I highly doubt is actual coffee?**

_Enjolras: I can buy the coffee when I get off work._

**Me: What type of coffee do I buy you?**

_Enjolras: I'll stop making fun of the song._

**Me: Good boy. And I'm getting into the car. Love you.**

_Enjolras: Love you too. See you at home._

* * *

When she got home, there was a small pink package on her doorstep. She grabbed it before anyone else could see it and stuffed it into the cloth shopping bags Enjolras had insisted on buying. She just hoped none of her neighbors noticed it. That'd be beyond mortifying. And Enjolras could possibly find out.

"I'm going to kill her. She's so dead." René muttered under her breath. Apparently, there was also a note in Eponine's handwriting.

_I called 'Ferre. I know you told me not to but you've been acting… well, the part. Just try it. It's better to be wrong about this sort of thing._

René sighed. Eponine was right. If she had been anyone else, she would've been swept off to the doctor for an actual diagnosis. At least, now she could put aside everything she guessed it wasn't. Besides, with this, she didn't even have to tell Enjolras. She could address this and prove him right. This was just her adjusting to not getting drunk on Wednesday. That's all it was and that's all it could ever be. There was no possible reason for anything else.

She knew she sounded desperate in her own head.

She calmed herself down, she didn't want a seizure when no one was home, and watched a little TV to take her mind off of it. She glanced at the clock and she had to do it now so she could easily hide it from Enjolras when he got home. So she went into the bathroom and tried it.

Let it never be said that René Grantaire was a patient woman. After two seconds, she started pacing around her bathroom, waiting for an answer. It only took about a minute.

Fuck.

This couldn't be happening to her. This couldn't be happening. She thought this was impossible. She couldn't breathe. Starting to panic, she did the first thing that came to mind. She called Eponine.

"Honey?" Eponine asked. She knew René rarely called her at work. Texted, sure but hardly ever called.

"You were right." René gasped out.

"What?" Eponine replied.

René took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

* * *

**Obviously, the sequel got enough votes. So here it is. I'm sorry it took so long, I meant to post it yesterday but there was one thing I forgot. At my grandparents house, there is no wifi. Sorry again. Well, so this is out it starts. Wait for more drama, suspense, and fluff as the chapters progress. Leave a review if you can. Until next time. Adieu mon chers!**


	2. Chapter 2

His wife wasn't waiting for him on the couch when he came home. Normally, when he texted that his day was a little sucky, she'd wait on the couch for him and they'd watch the news together and she'd let him rant about the sensationalism and then they'd make dinner together. It wasn't glamorous but it was a good thing to come home to.

"Grantaire?" He asked aloud. She might have been getting a glass of water or something, he wanted to make sure.

He got no answer.

"Grantaire?" He raised his voice.

"I'm in the bathroom." He knew that tone of her voice.

He ran to the bathroom. She was sitting on the ground. Her clothes were ruffled, her hair was unkempt (though that was practically every day), and there were tear streaks down her face. He dropped his bag and embraced her as hard as he could. She put her head on his shoulder. She wasn't crying, not so far as he could tell, but something had upset her. He didn't press her. She would talk when she was ready.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you." She apologized as she pulled away to face him.

"You didn't." He dismissed.

"How long have we been married?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Three years now." He answered.

"Right. And how many years have we known each other?" She pressed.

"Ten." He replied.

"Right. So what makes you think that I won't know when I worry you, even without looking at your face?" She smirked.

He rolled his eyes. "All right. I was worried when I came home and you were sitting on the bathroom floor looking like you've been crying. Am I not allowed to worry about my wife?"

"You are." She acquiesced.

"I was simply trying to lighten your spirits, Princess." He promised.

"Thank you." She smiled a little.

"Why don't we skip the news and go right to dinner?" He offered.

She nodded. "That sounds good."

So they stood up and headed into the kitchen.

"So how bad was the bad day?" She asked.

"Waiting for season three of Sherlock. They blasted Christmas music all day and no amount of my asking would get them to stop. Also, they stole my IPod so I couldn't even ignore them." He ranted.

"Did you at least get it back?" She questioned.

"I did. Just as I was heading out the door." He groaned.

"Tough break, sweetie." She smirked.

"You're enjoying this." He accused.

"Of course I am. It's not often that somebody annoys you like this. Well, someone other than me. You're adorable when you're annoyed." She cooed.

He glared at her.

"And there's the man I married." She kissed his cheek and went back to cooking.

He rolled his eyes, and sat down on the couch. He wasn't entirely mad at her, but he was making a statement. She came to the couch about twenty minutes later with two plates of a simple little pasta dish. She handed one to him and then the other fork he wasn't sure where she had in the first place. He pulled the coffee table closer to them so they could eat. She turned on the news and sat back.

"So how was your day?" He asked tentatively. He wasn't sure if she would answer but he had to try. Occasionally, he couldn't wait for her to talk first.

"Not at dinner." She whispered.

He nodded and started eating.

They watched then news for a while, with him adding commentary the entire time, and then after the show and dinner was done, he turned it off.

"What happened today?" He pressed.

"Look, I don't want to scare you or anything." She started.

"Tell me or I swear to God Grantaire I am going to cut my hair so short that you won't even recognize me anymore!" He shouted, keeping an annoyed mask on his face.

He knew she could see through it but he had to make sure she took his threat seriously. She searched his face and paled when she figured out he meant it.

"I don't know how to say it." She whispered.

"Just say it bluntly. I find that's the best policy." He shrugged.

"I'm pregnant." She confessed, unable to look him in the eye.

That was extremely unexpected.

"I thought you couldn't get pregnant. Your condition, your medication." He murmured.

"I thought so too. Otherwise, I wouldn't have told you that. I wouldn't have minded you using a condom or anything I just thought I couldn't. I'm so sorry." She replied.

"Grantaire… this is… are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes. It does explain why I've been acting so weirdly. After I tested positive at the home test Ep got me I went to the clinic and since they weren't very busy they let me in and I told them what's been going on and they tested me and… I'm pregnant. About a month along." She admitted.

He couldn't breathe. He was going to be a father. HE WAS GOING TO BE A FATHER!

"This is… this is fantastic! We're going to be parents! Oh I can't wait to tell everyone, they'll be so excited-"

"Enjolras-"

"We can redo the guest room into a nursery and we can paint it. Obviously we don't know whether it's going to be a boy or girl but we can paint it a neutral color like-"

"Enjolras-"

"Like green or navy. Or red. I like red. We could decorate with the French flag, and pictures of barricades, and Rousseau and so many books-"

"Enjolras-"

"And I wanted to be a father. With kids following in my footsteps and fighting social justice all the way-"

"Enjolras, please-"

"And as people who hate teach their kids to hate we can teach ours to be loving and open and nonsexist and nonracist and-"

"Enjolras!"

It wasn't really her voice that stopped him. It was the tears in her eyes.

"I don't want the baby." She stated.

And his world started to crash. He had to wait a minute to take it all in.

"Is it because you don't think you'd be a good mother? You'd be a great mother. You're wonderful with kids." He tried.

She shook her head. "It's not that."

"Do you think I won't be a good father? Am I too strict? Too intense? I could tone down some. Whatever you need me to do." He offered.

"Enjolras, I don't want to have the baby." She repeated.

"I'm sorry?" He breathed.

"I want an abortion." She said.

He pulled away from her and put his head in his hands. He knew he was breathing heavily but he didn't care.

"Enjolras?" Grantaire was crying. He didn't need to look at her to know. Now, he didn't think he could look at her.

"Why? This is my child too. Why would you want to do something like this?" He accused.

"I am not giving this baby my curse!" She screamed.

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"My curse! I am not giving this baby my epilepsy. I talked to the doctor and he said there was a chance that epilepsy could be passed from me to my baby. I have severe epilepsy and I will not ruin this baby's life!" She shouted.

"You don't know if it will. There is a chance you won't pass on the gene." He defended.

"I'm not going to take that chance. If I have a seizure while I'm pregnant, it could kill the baby anyways. It could kill me. I'm not doing this." She protested.

"Don't I get any say in this? This is my child too!" He yelled.

"Not according to the government. This is my decision!" She said coldly.

"Just think about this. Hear me out. Carry the baby to term. Have it. If the baby has epilepsy, we can put it up for adoption. A loving family will take it and everyone will be happy. If it doesn't, then we keep it and we love it. How about that?" He asked.

"And if something sets me off- small, big, maybe even nothing and I will kill this baby. There're too many things that can go wrong!" She disputed.

"You don't know that!" He insisted.

"I know enough!" She swore.

"Why can't you think about this? You have time!" He pressed.

"I don't have that much time." She stood sharply and turned away from him.

"Just slow down and think." He pleaded, turning her back to him.

"I did think! I have been thinking! I've been thinking about this since I found out! It wasn't my first thought! I'm not trying to use it as birth control. You support abortions!" She stomped her foot.

"I support the choice. I never thought that my wife would get one. I didn't even think I would ever have a wife. I never thought I would be in this situation." He replied.

"So now that I want one you suddenly become a pro-life?" She shot.

"I'm not pro-life. That doesn't mean I don't want our baby." He cut.

"Well I don't and I'm the one who has to go through everything! I don't want any more cravings or morning sickness and I don't want this! I don't want to have to go through nine months of not leaving the house again." She stormed.

"I don't see why you think you can't leave the house!" He groaned.

"Because what happens when I go outside and I get scared? Or angry? And that sets me off and I seize. And then I miscarriage. Or I kill the baby in the seizure. I am not going to get used to this and love it just to lose it. I've had enough death in my life!" She was crying.

But he was so angry he didn't care.

"So killing the baby now is gonna make it better?" He shouted.

"No but-" She started.

"Then why would you?" He screamed.

"Please, I thought you would support me on this!" She cried.

"How could I? I never said I didn't want kids." He yelled.

"And I never said I didn't want kids either!" She responded.

"Then why are you doing this?" He asked.

"You know why! I told you why!" She stomped.

"Is it because you want to keep drinking?" He accused coldly.

"What? No, drinking has nothing to do with it." She said, startled.

"Are you sure? Because if that's why you're doing this, I can get you help. They have programs for things like this-" He offered.

"It has nothing to do with drinking! Enjolras, my alcoholism has nothing to do with this, please. Please believe me. Please." She begged. She grabbed Enjolras's face and looked into eyes. Her cool blue eyes surrounded by red were pleading with him. Begging him to understand.

Thing was, he didn't know what she wanted him to understand. He didn't answer her. Her face crumpled and she turned away from him.

"I think I should stay at Ep and 'Ferre's tonight." She whispered, her shoulders slumping.

He put his hand on her shoulder but she pushed him away.

"We can work this out." He pleaded.

"I want to stop talking about this." She went to her room and grabbed an overnight bag.

"Should- do you want me to drive you?" He offered.

"No. I'll walk." She said flatly.

"I should drive you." He stated.

"I'm not getting into the car with you." She snapped, packing clothes and toiletries.

"I don't want you walking alone." He tried.

"I don't care what you want." She whispered.

"It's dangerous." He pressed.

"I can handle dangerous." She insisted.

"It's dark." He flailed.

"I'm a big girl. I'm not afraid of the dark." She rolled her eyes. She knew he was running out of reasons.

"Please, Grantaire, think about this. We can talk this through." He begged.

"I don't want to talk anymore." She growled.

She threw her bag over her shoulder and started to walk out. He grabbed her arm and she threw him off.

"Princess-" He started.

"Don't call me that." She spat.

"Stay here. Please." He begged.

"I'm leaving!" She screamed and stormed to the door. She stopped but didn't look back.

"I love you." He called out.

She hesitated but then went out the door. She didn't say when she was coming back. She hadn't even said 'I love you'. That was the first time he'd said it without her saying it back since they'd been married. This was the first time he'd said it without her saying it back since… since they'd gotten together. It was the first time he'd said it without her saying it back… ever.

* * *

**Ah. This is why one of my friend's threatened to take my characters away until I learn to treat them better. In truth, the father has no rights over a woman having an abortion. I think that people should know that. I am neither pro-life or pro-choice but I just think people should know that. And with that, the plot thickens. So, my friends, leave a review and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear what you have to say. Until next time, adieu mon chers.**


	3. Chapter 3

It started raining halfway to Eponine and Combeferre's house. She didn't care. If anything, it hid the tears she was still crying. She'd never thought Enjolras would act like that. They'd never had a fight that wasn't mostly petty. Even when he'd asked her to cut back drinking, he knew she'd never stop completely, they hadn't fought like that. It was their first major fight. She couldn't stop crying. She didn't want to fight with Enjolras, she didn't want a husband who wouldn't support her, and she most definitely didn't want a baby. Even though she'd panicked about the whole pregnant thing, she never thought that Enjolras wouldn't support her. He'd went to, hell they'd went to rallies for abortion rights and he'd spoken in so many places about the rights of choice. And here he was calling her a killer? Well, maybe he didn't do that. But it felt like that's what happened. She clutched her bag closer to her chest so it didn't get as wet. She couldn't run, she'd never be able to again- more that bastard Montparnasse had taken from her- so she contented herself to walking as fast as she could. When she got to the end of Eponine's block, relief flooded her system when she saw Combeferre's beautiful two-story with the porch light on. She saw both of them on the front porch with umbrella. Eponine saw her first. She ran towards her friend and hugged her. Combeferre was right behind her with the umbrella and a blanket. He wrapped the blanket around her and they led her inside.

"How-" René started.

"Enjolras called us and told us what happened. Oh dear I didn't think he'd react like this." Eponine explained, rubbing René's arms to get some warmth in them.

"I didn't either. Why would he say something like that?" René cried.

"I don't know honey." Eponine sat her down on the couch.

"He never said anything about wanting kids. I mean, he wasn't even disappointed when I told him I could- when I thought I couldn't have kids. He just smiled at me and said we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I didn't think he even wanted kids. Or at least not his own. I knew we would adopt. And certainly not now. I mean, I'm only twenty-eight. And I know that kinda sounds like when people have kids but I can't help but think of myself as twenty-six because of what happened with… him and I seem so young to myself and I don't want a baby!" She ranted.

"You want some tea?" Combeferre offered.

"Do I have a choice in the matter?" René countered.

"Regardless of the fact that you're pregnant, you've been out in the rain with no gear or boots for at least twenty minutes. I guess Enjolras called us as soon as you left and you've been gone for little under an hour. Do you think you have a choice?" He smiled gently.

"Do you have Earl Grey?" René smiled a little too brightly.

"You're getting chamomile." Combeferre said bluntly.

"OCD much?" René smirked.

Combeferre smiled softly, rolled his eyes, and went into the kitchen.

"Okay. Tell me everything." Eponine ordered.

And René did. From after she hung up to when she stormed out. She started crying as soon as she started. Combeferre gave her the tea early on and wrapped another blanket around her. They listened intently, only nodding when she paused to take a breath.

"Why, 'Ferre? Why would he act like that?" René begged.

"I can't tell you, Taire. Enjolras and I never even considered settling down the way we have, let alone children. We dreamt of revolution not family. I don't know what to tell you." Combeferre admitted.

René nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't know what to say too. And I married the guy."

"Just drink your tea and try not to get sick. We'll sort this out in the morning." Combeferre kissed Eponine on the temple, gave René a quick hug and headed upstairs.

"He's worried. About both of you." Eponine stated.

"I would be too." René agreed, downcast.

"Sweetheart, there's something you're not telling me." Eponine forced René to look her in the eyes.

"I'm scared, Ep. I'm scared that this is gonna wreck everything he and I have. Other couples have split for less." René confessed.

"You aren't other couples." Eponine insisted.

"But we're human like them, aren't we?" René countered.

"He loves you. Honey, he's always loved you. And you love him. You'll work through this." Eponine promised.

"How do you know that?" René scoffed.

"How long have I known you?" Eponine asked.

"Since high school." René answered.

"And how long have I been your best friend?" Eponine pressed.

"Since high school." René repeated.

"Right. And do you remember when you first got picked on for being who are you?" Eponine questioned.

"Of course. And I know you mean the first time since I met you, not the first time it happened. I believe your opening line was, and I quote 'Who lit the fuse on your tampon?'" René replied.

"And how many times did those kids torment you? And get their disgusting little toadies to torment you too?" Eponine inquired.

"More times than I can count. Why?" René snapped.

"And how many times did I tell you that it would get better? That life wouldn't always be so cruel to you?" Eponine asked.

"More times than I can count." René whispered.

"And it did get better. The people were better, you found the Amis, you found Enjolras, hell girl, you got married and graduated college and you're living your dream of becoming a musician. Life is good now. Life got better." Eponine said.

"And all life ever does is lull me into a false sense of security before obliterating my world like it always does." René cried.

"I'd ask when you got so cynical, but I know exactly when that happened." Eponine sighed.

"Don't talk about it." René snapped.

"You never talk about it." Eponine shot.

"And that's for a reason." René defended.

"You don't want to deal with it." Eponine cut.

"I've dealt with it." René tried.

"No you haven't. Honey, you might've stood a chance in this discussion before I became a social worker. I deal with this all day. Kids who've lost their parents, or were taken from them, and they don't want to talk because that means having to face what happened to them. You've never faced this. You shoved it aside to continue on with your life. You never dealt with it. And now you're facing something that's reminding you of that." Eponine said.

"Don't shrink me. You're not a shrink." René growled.

"No but I am your friend and have similar training. René, what aren't you telling me? And don't say you already told me because I know a half truth when I see one." Eponine pressed.

"Why don't you go up to your husband? Isn't he waiting for you? It's late." René deflected.

"No he's not. He's fallen asleep without me in bed before. He's probably already asleep. Now answer me. What. Aren't. You. Telling. Me." Eponine enunciated.

"If I don't start a family, I don't have to lose it again." René breathed.

Eponine didn't say anything. At first, René thought it was because she couldn't hear what René had said. Then her friend attacked her with a tight embrace. René buried her head in Eponine's shoulder and took deep breaths until she calmed down.

"Losing your family won't impact the life you can start with Enjolras." Eponine said.

"I won't make my children go through what I did." René whispered.

"Epilepsy? Or losing their parents at a young age?" Eponine asked.

"Both. What happens if Enjolras is killed at a protest? Or if I have a seizure at the wrong place and die? Or if Enjolras and I are killed for something as simple as money or revenge? Then what? Am I to make other people go through what happened to me? My own children? Do you really think I'd put them through that?" René inquired.

"Honey, just because you lost your parents too young doesn't mean your kids will." Eponine tried.

"With my luck? You bet it will. Plus, we get to go see Enjolras's parents in America. And I have pictures of Ryan and my parents at the house. This boy or girl will ask who they are. Why they only have one set of grandparents while everyone else in school has two. Why Mommy gets really sad three days a year and won't leave her bed. Why Daddy gets so angry so quickly. And I can't wait for the 'why does Mommy shake sometimes and then sleep for the rest of the day'? And that's if they don't have epilepsy. I won't put them through that." René said.

"Sweetheart, as much as I love you and I know you respect me, I know once you've made your mind up, there's not much anyone can do to change it. Now, I won't comment on abortion. That's your choice. I will do nothing but whatever you need me to. I am your friend. Correction, I am your best friend. And I will never leave you. No matter what. I love you. And so does Enjolras. I'm also obligated to say all the Amis love you as much as we do. Now, get some sleep. It won't do you well to be exhausted when you're making these decisions. You comfortable? Need anything?" Eponine finished.

"I'm fine. I think I got enough blankets." René mused.

Eponine smiled and kissed her friend's cheek. "Do try and sleep tonight. Good night."

"Night. You get some sleep too." René tentatively smiled back.

Eponine nodded and headed upstairs. René sighed and settled down.

_She's right. Just because you had horrible teenage years doesn't mean your kids will._

Doesn't mean I want to risk it.

_You could try and keep the child. Put it up for adoption if you really don't want it._

I wouldn't have the strength to do that.

_How do you know that?_

Because I know the minute I look into this child's eyes, I will love them. No matter what. Just like Mom said.

_-And when you have your baby, when you're old enough to have babies, all you have to do is take one look. It's all in that one look. Whether the baby's eyes are yours, your husband's, or even mine or his father's, they will hold all the love you could ever give someone._

_-Did my eyes look like that, Mommy?_

_-Of course they did. I love you, don't I?_

_-Yes. Ryan too?_

_-Ryan too._

René remembered exactly how her mother looked. She had long, black hair which she usually braided, pale skin from being cooped up with her books five days a week, and chocolate brown eyes. She had the most wonderful eyes. René always felt safe when she looked into her mother's eyes.

_Fear and the red from tears were still in them when she died. The pictures at the trail were so gruesome. Claquesous had not held back in any way. Her mother had been shot at such a close range the impact had blown out most of her mother's skull._

Enough! I have told myself this enough times. I will not remember the trial. I won't remember the images. I refuse.

_Then why did you?_

For once, I'd like to remember my mother, my whole family for that reason, without going to the trial.

_You know that's never going to happen._

You know what? I am a twenty-s-eight year old woman. I shouldn't be arguing with you like this.

_I'm you. Plenty of people argue with themselves._

Yes, but I think I'm going to lose. Which is when it gets weird.

_You are deflecting from your own mind. Sometimes, I think you're crazy._

Sometimes, I know I'm crazy.

_You said you wouldn't have the strength to give the child away. Do you have the strength to abort it?_

I don't know. I just don't want to deal with being a mother. That sounds selfish doesn't it?

_A little but not in a bad way. Some people can't handle having kids. You've had a hard life._

Lot of people have had a hard life. They have nice, well-adjusted kids.

_Then keep the baby._

I won't be a good mother.

_Enjolras didn't say that._

Enjolras also said that I look good in pink. I can't trust anything he says.

_He says he loves you. Do you not trust that?_

… Shut up.

_Oh. So you do. Why can't you trust him if he said you'd be a good mother?_

He's never seen me with kids.

_Yes, he has. _

When?

_That one time at the park. When that poor kid lost his puppy. You calmed him down, bought him an ice cream while Enjolras went looking for the dog. You stayed with him for two hours until he came back._

I don't count that. Enjolras wasn't actually with me at the time. He didn't see me.

_But he saw what you could do with kids._

One. One kid. He saw me with one kid.

_That was something._

Why am I arguing with myself about this? Hours ago, I made up my mind.

_He planted some doubt in your head. Probably so did Ep._

I don't want doubt. I want a decision.

_Then make one._

I can't.

_Why not?_

Because…

_Because what?_

I don't know.

_You're doubting._

I don't know what I'm doubting. I have a lot of reasons for not having a child.

_You have some for having a child as well._

I'm tired. Let's continue this tomorrow.

_Also known as I don't want to deal with my problems so I'm going to sleep to avoid them for a few hours._

… Shut up.

* * *

**Hey guys. I'm gonna make this short. I'm tired. I did manual labor all day (read: LOTS of chores which I couldn't finish) and it didn't stop at sundown. Drop a review if you can. I'm going to bed. Until next time. Adieu mon chers.**


	4. Chapter 4

Enjolras didn't sleep that night. He cried a little, screamed a little, stared at the ceiling for a couple hours, changed into his pajamas, thought some more, changed back into regular close, cried some more, and paced. Grantaire didn't text him, call him or even email him. He obsessively checked for each nearly every two minutes. Thankfully, Combeferre texted when René showed up at their house to assuage his fears. They had never fought like that before. To society, to their friends, to them their marriage was perfect. They bickered like everyone else but they didn't fight. Not like that. He promised himself he wouldn't fight like that with her since he slapped her. They annoyed each other, she teased him, he ignored her, she goaded him, he rose her teasing and then they usually had sex. But they never fought. Not even when he asked her to cut back on her drinking. She was resistant, as most people with problems would be, but with time, he wore her down enough to when she promised to cut back. He worked out a schedule so she could easily go baby steps until her desired goal.

He'd done all-nighters before, but at least then he had something to focus on. He hadn't brought any of his cases home so he had nothing to do for work, the other Amis were all asleep so he couldn't discuss any plans for protests and rallies, and his usual partner for being unable to sleep was over at his best friend's house. He lay down in bed but it felt so cold that he couldn't for long. When five in the morning rolled around, he felt exhausted, sick and worried. He made himself breakfast, but didn't touch it. After an hour of simply looking at his food, which was making his stomach turn, he put it in Tupperware and into the fridge. He tried watching the news but all it did was make him miss Grantaire's commentary. She'd often say things just to ignite his passion. They'd bicker and then she'd smile and kiss him. Watching the news was one of their greatest aphrodisiacs. He barely made it through half an hour before he turned it off.

What had gone wrong? Why wouldn't Grantaire listen to him? She'd be a good mother. She could stop drinking. She wouldn't pass on the epilepsy. Why did she always look on the negative side of things? He loved his cynic dearly and that wouldn't change but did she always have to be so… so cynical? Not everything in the world was horrible. Good things happened to good people. And they were good people. Even Grantaire would have to agree to that. But why wouldn't she listen? She was so frustrating sometimes! Out of meetings and watching the news, they almost never discussed politics for this reason. Because their views were so different. Well, not exactly different. Just… her views were a little skewed. He understood why they were skewed but skewed they were. If only she'd just listen to him! Then she wouldn't have to be so sad all the time. She could be optimistic. However, knowing her, that optimism wouldn't last. She wasn't made for optimism. Which got annoying pretty quickly. Stop that thought, he still loved her. He would always love her. It was why he was so worried. About the baby, the abortion, that she hasn't texted/emailed/called him. God, why hasn't she at least called him? Eight o clock. He grabbed the house phone and called in sick. After hanging up, he stared at the phone. She still hadn't called. Neither had Combeferre. God, why haven't they called? Combeferre always gets up at seven thirty. He always did in college, whether he had a class or not. Enjolras was panicking. Did she already go through with the abortion? What if she got hurt? He'd heard stories of women being hurt by the process? What if that was why she wasn't calling? What if they got into a car crash on the way over? Oh God, was his cynic hurt? Was she dead? OH GOD! He hadn't been this panicked since her kidnapping. He needed to make sure she was okay. She had to be okay. He needed her to be okay.

He grabbed his keys and ran to his car.

* * *

"'Ferre! Combeferre! Grantaire! Someone answer the door!" He pleaded, slamming his fist to the door.

No one answered immediately.

He pounded harder. "Please! Please answer the door!"

"I'm coming." Combeferre shouted from inside. He opened the door a few seconds later.

"Where is she? Is she okay?" Enjolras asked.

"She's fine. Morning sickness. Take a breath." Combeferre ordered.

Enjolras quickly took a deep breath.

"Speed defeats the purpose." Combeferre reminded him.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and took an exaggerated deep breath. Combeferre smiled wryly and allowed him into the house.

"First bathroom." Combeferre supplied.

Knowing the house as good as his own, he made his way to the bathroom on the first floor and Eponine stopped him. He had known her for years. He was not afraid to admit he was still terrified of her. She would probably be pleased. He often thought Eponine delighted in his pain. The only thing that was different from all those years ago when he first met her was that now he had enough courage to stand up to her. Occasionally.

"I'm debating letting you near her. The only reason she didn't seize was because she has too much control for that. Though I am glad you called us, why didn't you drive her over?" Eponine growled.

"She wouldn't let me." Enjolras defended.

"Why didn't you force her?" Eponine pressed.

"Do you really think I can force her to do anything she doesn't want to?" Enjolras asked.

"So why do you think you can force her to keep this baby?" Eponine cut.

Enjolras hesitated, forming his next words carefully. "I was upset. How would you like to find out you're going to be a mother and then Combeferre says he doesn't want to keep the child? For reasons that are easily fixable."

"I know this is hard. René spent hours crying on my couch last night. It's hard for her too. You think she likes making you upset? I spent a good part of last night convincing her that you weren't going to leave her." Eponine said.

"Why would I ever leave her? I don't know if she's heard about it, though this is a pretty old saying, but she is the love of my life." Enjolras stated.

"For the last time, do the words cynic, depression, self-esteem issues mean anything to you?" Eponine groaned.

"They do. I married them. You act like I didn't know exactly what I was getting into with her. I wouldn't have married her otherwise. I need to talk to her. Let me see her." He demanded.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She dismissed.

"Well I do. And I happen to be her husband. So I believe I outrank you." He spat.

Eponine looked taken aback. On the inside, so was Enjolras. He wasn't exactly sure where those words had come from, but he was glad he said them. She gave one last look at Grantaire, and moved out of his way. He shut the door and locked it. Grantaire had her head on the toilet seat, as she had been doing most mornings, and he was pretty sure she was asleep. As he came closer, his suspicion was confirmed. He kissed the side of her face and she startled awake. She barely moved and he knelt to her height.

"When did you get here?" She mumbled.

"A few minutes ago. It's almost eight thirty." He answered.

"Oh. You freaked out, didn't you?" She accused.

"A little." He admitted.

"It seems I'm good at that this morning." She muttered, sitting up to face him.

"Oh?" He asked.

"Ep was not prepared for morning sickness. She panicked." She said.

"Ah. Look, R, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have fought with you like that." He started.

"No. I'm sorry. I should've taken your opinion into account. I guess I was being a little selfish-" She interrupted.

"Shut up." She stopped talking. She always did when he told her to. "To be honest, you did nothing wrong. Neither did I. All couples fight. We just picked our biggest one to be this." He tried.

"And what if we have the baby? We'll fight about parenting styles, discipline, what clothes for the baby to wear. And what then?" She asked.

"Then we deal with them. If anyone is to apologize, it's me. I couldn't see where you were coming from until later. Actually, I really still can't but I can see why you chose your arguments. I should've listened to you better and I shouldn't have run my mouth the way I did. To accuse you of wanting to keep drinking was cruel and uncalled for. You have made considerable progress in that area. Now let me make something very clear. Whether we have the baby or not, whether we bicker over what color the baby looks best in, or we fight over the radio stations after the abortion, no matter what happens, I'm not leaving. I have everything to lose if I leave you. My heart, my soul, and my intelligence. I believe it was that American artist you love so much who sang, 'I will always love you.' And that will never stop. Do you understand?" He stated.

"I think you were right when you said we had time. I'm not quite sure what we're going to do today but I know tomorrow all I want to do is curl up into a ball and never see the world again." She said.

She knew he knew she hadn't answered his question, but he decided to let it drop. If he was going to convince her that he wasn't going anywhere, it would take more than words to do so. Sometimes, he wondered exactly when she would wise up to the fact that he loved her and that wasn't going to change. However, he remembered exactly what he married. Self-doubt, fear, depression, anxiety and self-loathing. More often than not, those emotions crushed all other feelings. But he wouldn't give that up for anything. He would prove it to her.

"I can arrange that." He smiled slightly.

She tentatively returned it.

"Do you need anything? Ginger ale? Soda?" He asked.

"No. My stomach is fine." She dismissed.

"And the rest of you?" He pressed.

"I'm fine, Enjolras. Don't worry about me." She deflected.

He slowly approached her and when she allowed him to come closer and leaned her back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. She made no move to accept his embrace so he started kissing up her neck.

"Princess?" He murmured.

"Mm-hm?" She purred.

"Promise you will never leave me." He whispered.

She stiffened and turned around to face him. "Why would I?"

"Because I can be an insensitive prick who is egotistical, selfish, disgusting, hateful and cruel." He answered.

"Where in the hell did you get that idea?" She demanded.

"Do you remember the homeless shelter?" He asked.

She nodded. "When you screamed at me about how useless and pathetic I was?"

"Remember when Eponine came over to my place to 'rip me a new one'?" He inquired, wincing at her words. She hadn't even batted an eye when she said it. It meant a part of her still believed it.

"She never told me that's where she went. Only that she went out." She responded.

"Well, when she did, I all but memorized her tirade after going over it in my head so many times. I hated myself for hurting you and I must have replayed that conversation a million times trying to figure out exactly what I could do to make it up to you. Or rather, apologize." He replied.

Grantaire didn't make a sound. She wore her expression of deep thought, but he couldn't tell where it was going.

"That why you act like a whipped dog every time she came into a room?" She smirked.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't say that."

"Then how would you say it?" She teased.

"I understand the threat in the room and adjust accordingly." He said.

"Lawyer." She growled, smiling.

He returned it immediately.

A knock came at the door.

"Breakfast is pancakes and fruit. And ready. I've set the table for four." Combeferre's voice came through the door.

"Food?" He offered.

"Yeah." She agreed but made no move to get up. She wore an expression of deep thought.

"What is it?" He cocked his head to the left.

"I think you're right. I think we need to talk to a doctor about this." She said eventually.

"'Ferre is right outside. We can get him." He went to stand but she stopped him.

"As much as I trust 'Ferre and Joly, I want it by a specialist. Someone was studied this particular thing." She explained.

"That's- whatever you want to do. I'm behind you one hundred percent." He smiled.

"Thank you." She murmured.

"C'mon. Breakfast with 'Ferre has never not been good." He stood and extended his hand.

She took it. "That boy could easily be a chef if he wasn't a doctor."

"He'd hate being a chef. Only reason he learned to cook was because I wouldn't eat anything most days. He would cook and I would feel bad about him doing work on the food so I'd eat it to not feel guilty. I think that's the only reason I survived freshman year." He admitted, unwilling to let her go.

She laughed, a sound he cherished more than breathing. "I'm surprised you survived at all without him."

"Sometimes, so am I." He conceded.

He kissed her head and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He unlocked the door and led her to the table.

"Please tell me my bathroom doesn't smell like sex." Eponine stated as they joined the table.

"As if you would know what that smells like." Grantaire snorted.

"Girls, would you please mind your manners?" Combeferre asked.

"Yes, Momma 'Ferre." The girls recited.

"Tell me, 'Ferre, why did we marry children?" Enjolras questioned.

"If we hadn't, they would've killed us." Combeferre said dryly.

"Hey!" The girls chorused.

"You wouldn't be offended it wasn't true." Enjolras chimed.

"Says the boy who gets offended about football team names." Grantaire mock whispered to Eponine.

"They are derogatory." Enjolras insisted.

"Of course they are, darling." Grantaire smiled condescendingly.

"They are!" Enjolras pressed.

She scooped some syrup onto her finger and wiped it on his nose. "You have syrup on your nose. Your argument is invalid."

"I call for a truce." Combeferre called, trying to avoid Eponine's finger, also covered in syrup.

"Accepted." Grantaire smirked. Enjolras nodded. Eponine relaxed, and attacked Combeferre's cheek when he put his guard down.

"Rookie mistake." Eponine muttered and licked the syrup off.

"Can we please keep this interdit aux moins de 12 ans?" Enjolras asked.

"We can." Eponine conceded.

"Will we?" Grantaire pressed.

"Right question. Fine." Eponine winked at Grantaire.

Grantaire smirked.

The boys exchanged looks.

Combeferre sighed. "I'll see you in heaven, my friend."

* * *

**Hey guys. Sorry for the late update. I went snowboarding up in Mammoth (and saw SHAUN WHITE JUMPING IN PERSON!) so I didn't have much time to write.**

**Let me get one thing straight. I've gotten some notes about abortion, and I want everyone to know that this is not a platform for abortion or pro-life. This story, at it's core, simply means actions have consequences. If you want, message me about what happens to the baby. I'd rather you not, as I'd hate to give it all away but if it gives you peace of mind, or ethics, then sure. I just wanted you all to know this is about actions have consequences. I just use subjects that are controversial to help get that point across. Hopefully, this satisfies everyone.**

**Leave a review if you can. I'd appreciate the feedback. Until next time. Adieu mon chers.**


	5. Chapter 5

A hand on his face gradually pulled him from sleep. He was used to this after three years. Grantaire was a very restless sleeper. He was so close to falling back asleep again.

"No… no… get away… get away!" Grantaire was muttering.

That woke him up. He immediately pulled himself into a sitting position and pulled her close to him. Waking her would only make it worse, so he simply waited and started petting her hair and speaking in hushed tones.

"Sh, Grantaire, sh, it's all right, he's dead, he can't hurt you anymore, it's all right, I'm right here, it's all right."

Unfortunately, the words that usually calmed her did nothing.

"Grantaire, it's all right, calm down, sh, sh, sh, nothing is going to hurt you, we're here, we're all okay, everything is fine." He whispered.

She whimpered in fear.

"It's all right. It's all right." He repeated.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she screamed bloody murder. Feeling Enjolras's strong arms around her, she fought tooth and nail to get away from him. He grunted as her elbow connected with his nose and he felt blood start to drip down his nose. But he didn't care. His number one priority was calming his wife. He could deal with a bloody nose later. Grantaire eyes were wild and panicked and there was no recognition them.

"It's me. It's Enjolras. Your Apollo. It's all right. You're safe. You're with me. You're safe. He's dead." He reassured her.

Tears streamed down her face as his words finally sunk in. She collapsed into his chest, her own wracking with heart-wrenching sobs. He held her close and whispered to her everything and anything he could to try and calm her down. When he saw a couple drops of blood drip into her hair, he tried to grab a tissue without disturbing her. Of course, that's exactly what he did. Her head shot up, her becoming red eyes widened when she saw his bloody nose.

"I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." Tears leaked from her eyes and flooded down her face with abandon.

"You weren't yourself. It's fine. But I really need a tissue." He promised.

She grabbed it and he rolled it up and jammed it up his nose. She inspected the swelling and sore appendage and sighed in relief. Obviously, it wasn't broken. She rested her head on his shoulder and sniffled loudly.

"What happened?" He asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." She dismissed.

"Hey. You promised." He reminded her.

When the nightmares returned, he had made her promise to always talk about them with him. It always helped her, though she never admitted it. He guessed it was a pride thing.

"I did." She sighed. "I don't remember much of it but I was running, he was screaming at me, and I'm pretty sure most of the Amis were dead. Normal nightmare for to- this time of the year."

"There is so much wrong with that sentence." He muttered.

She nudged his chest.

"If I wasn't right, you wouldn't have done that." He mumbled.

She whined in complaint. He chuckled and kissed her hair.

"You suck." She murmured.

"You married me." He countered.

"You still suck. I'm just the idiot who married the man who sucks." She smirked.

"You're despicable." He laughed.

"Says the man who's laughing." She replied.

"That just means I'm self-deprecating." He responded.

"No." She stated.

"No?" He questioned.

"No. That's my bit." She explained.

He kissed her. "Are you going to get out of bed today?"

She turned so she could sit next to him with her head on his shoulder. "I doubt it."

"All right. I'll make breakfast. You want anything specific?" He offered.

"You here in bed with me." She batted her eyelashes.

"You're pregnant. I don't think we should have sex like we usually do." He said dryly.

"Ugh! There goes my morning." She fell face-first onto her knees.

"Flexible." He commented.

"We've had sex how many times and you're just noticing this now?" She cocked an eyebrow.

He blushed.

She laughed. "Don't ever change."

"I'll start on breakfast." He mumbled, still blushing, and climbed out of bed.

"It's like four in the morning." She protested. "Come back to bed."

"Four in the morning is a fine time to make breakfast." He tried.

"IHOP is open early, last time I checked. Order in." She pouted.

He smiled and climbed back into bed.

The sunrise found the two of them on their roof enjoying each other's company, with a little whipped cream. They cleaned up and climbed back down. Grantaire immediately went back to bed. Rather than try to pry her out of bed, which wouldn't work, he dressed, grabbed a book and sat down next to her. She hardly slept today. She just tried to keep her mind as blank as possible. He talked to her when she asked him to and didn't when she kept quiet. The routine was becoming fairly simple. The simplicity didn't make him enjoy the day any more though.

"Wanna watch the news?" She offered quietly.

He turned to her with surprise. She hated the news. But he didn't say anything. He never questioned her today. He just grabbed the remote and turned on France 24.

The first story that was on was the UK scandal of gay asylum questions leaked to the government officials.

"This is absolutely degrading! How could people have the decency to ask those kinds of questions? Even if it 'just following orders', how could someone even think of that kind of humiliation? Why weren't there any workers who refused to ask these questions?" He shouted at the TV.

He heard her hum quietly and he stole a glance at her. She was smiling at him, the same way she always did when he got passionate about something. That's why she asked him to turn on the news. She loved it when he got passionate about something.

"An update on the Cecile Lamarck case- she is still missing, kidnapped by her stalker- a man named Andre Duvall. She is not presumed dead just yet, but the police have no leads to find her."

In those two sentences, Grantaire went from enjoying his passion to hiding in the closet with a baseball bat. He'd always kept two baseball bats under the bed, one under her side the other under his, in case of break-ins or threats against his family. Grantaire knew how to swing and hurt whoever was attacking her. He just hoped that someone wouldn't be him. He tiptoed over to the closet where he could hear her panting. He shut off the TV and knelt next to the closet. He gently turned the knob and, unsurprisingly, found it locked.

"Grantaire?" He whispered.

He could hear her hyperventilate.

He made an exaggeration about breathing slowly and deeply. The pants slowed down.

"I'm right here. Everything is okay. I'm right here with you." He promised.

"Enjolras?" Her voice was so small.

"Yeah?" He answered immediately.

"Talk to me. It doesn't have to be about anything. Just talk to me." She squeaked.

"Of course, Princess. I remember when you first moved in with me, after the disaster that was your second freshman year, in this house. It was sophomore year for you and technically for me too at graduate school. I'm pretty sure the entire day I felt Jean's eyes on me, glaring holes into my back. He trusted me, he had no reason not to, but he hated the fact that his little girl was growing up. And after everyone left and we had finished unpacking, the first thing we did was make dinner together. Remember what we had? Chicken parmesan. It took about an hour and we burned the crap out of it but it was the first meal we ever had together under our own roof. It was one of the most delicious meals I've ever tasted." He said.

"I remember. Keep talking." Her voice was shaky but slightly more confident now.

"The lake. Barques du Bois de Vincennes. We went there for Courfeyrac's birthday the first summer we all spent together. Jehan picked those lovely flowers and gave them to all the girls and Bahorel and you dominated the poultry game. I still don't understand why it's called that. Do you remember when Musichetta made her delicious chiliburgers and she brought one out calling, "Accidentally burned beyond belief" and Bousset just ran up to her screaming, "That's mine."? Then at night we built this huge bonfire which Joly was terrified that it was going to give him smoke inhalation. We snuck away from the group, or rather you snuck away and I followed you like the good boyfriend I am, and you climbed a tree and then proceeded to get stuck. Do you remember what happened after?" He asked.

"After you called the others, you climbed up with me so I wouldn't have to be stuck alone." She cried.

"How you feeling?" He murmured.

"I'm sick of crying over this." She spat.

"Then get dressed. That is our closet so get dressed." He ordered.

"I said I wasn't getting out of bed today." She protested.

"Well, the closet is not bed. Get dressed." He demanded.

"All right, all right, don't get your panties in a wad." She groaned and he could hear her set down the bat and do what he asked of her. He dressed himself and once she was ready, or rather presentable, he wrangled her into the car.

"Where are we going?" She pouted, asking for the fifth time.

"I told you. It's a surprise." He repeated.

She sulked. She didn't like not knowing where she was going. She'd said so four- no five times now.

He ignored her.

Eventually, they arrived. Charlatan Cimetière. She cocked her head to the left, thoroughly confused. He checked them in and covered her eyes. He led them to a specific grave. She paled.

"Why are we here?" She hissed. "I don't want to be here, let's go home."

"You said you're sick of crying over this. You're sick of being afraid of him. Then, goddammit, face him and tell him!" Enjolras shouted.

Normally, he would never raise his voice in a cemetery. It's rude and it disturbs the other people coming to mourn. But for this he would make an exception.

"He's dead, Enjolras. What am I supposed to say? Hi. It's been exactly eight years since you kidnapped me. I married the boy who rescued me, _legally_, and I still hang out with the same people. I still have PTSD episodes every now and again, today being an example and I hate you with more passion than my husband has in his entire body! Am I supposed to say that? Is that what you want me to say?" She screamed.

"Do you feel better?" He smirked.

She slapped him upside the head. "No."

He glared at her.

"Okay a little." She admitted.

"Say what you need to. I'm going to be over there, on that bench. Scream as loud as you want. According to the book of records, no one else is here." He kissed her and walked over to the bench.

He watched her as she simply stood. She stood without moving for an hour. How, he wasn't sure. Grantaire was restless. He would wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom only to find he couldn't get out of bed because Grantaire has rolled completely on top of him and her limps can give an octopus a run for its money. He never took his eyes off of her. He hoped that what he was doing what right. He knew she knew that he was only trying to help.

In one moment, she snapped. He wasn't sure what caused it, but he was extremely glad to be on this side of it and not next to it. One second she was standing immobilized and the next she was waving her arms and screaming, he could hear the echoes though he didn't know what she was saying. He watched carefully, ready to bolt to her side at any minute. She easily seized when this angry. Then, almost instantly, she stopped. She was panting but seemed fine enough. He could see a seizure coming on faster than Eponine sometimes and he didn't see one but something had stopped her. She fell to her knees, and he started towards her as quick as he could. He prayed he hadn't missed a sign that she was about to seize. But her head came up and she seemed okay enough. He slowed down considerably. He debated going back to the bench but he wanted to make sure she was all right first.

"I'll see you in hell, you fucking bastard." She stood up, spit on the gravestone and turned.

Right into him.

He had expected her to turn right. For some reason, she turned left. They landed hard on the ground.

"Jeez, Enjolras, if you wanted to do it in a cemetery, all you had to do was ask." She licked his cheek.

"That will never be as sexy as you think it is." He said dryly.

She laughed lightly but he could see some fading pain in her eyes.

"I need a drink." She sighed and stood up.

"You most certainly will not." He followed suit.

"Enjolras, cutting back doesn't mean stopping completely." She rolled her eyes.

"R, you're pregnant." He reminded her.

"Oh shit." She muttered.

He waited for her to say something else.

"Well, every coping technique I've ever had just flew out the window." She exhaled.

"Then let's start a new one. How about we go home and binge on cheesy movies and pizza?" He offered, plastering a smile on his face.

She saw right through it. "Who'd you get that from?"

"Jehan and Courfeyrac." He admitted.

"Don't listen to them. They're much too romantic. I prefer your passion." She stated.

He smiled in relief. "I was really hoping you would say something like that."

"I've been married to you for three years now. Jehan and I dated for two weeks. I think you're the expert on me." She said.

"I would hope so. Unless there's a third party I need to know about." He laced their fingers together and they started to walk out.

"Oh. I can't take it any longer. Eponine and I have been having an affair for months now." She overdramatized.

"I'm devastated." He deadpanned.

She burst into laughter and he soon joined her. He ran inside to check them out but when he came out, she was gone.

"Princess?" He called. She probably just slipped to the bathroom while waiting.

"BOO!" Someone screamed from behind and he jumped about ten feet into the air.

When he landed, Grantaire was rolling on the floor.

"You should've seen your face." She gasped out.

"Fine. See how funny it is when I leave you here." He started towards the car.

She scrambled to her feet and attacked him with a hug and kiss.

"You're not still mad, are you?" She asked, giving him her best doe eyes.

"No. I could never begrudge you joy. Not today, not ever." He kissed her.

"Race you to the car." She smiled brightly and took off.

"I'm not five." He called out after her but picked his pace up a little bit.

"I win." She chirped.

"It doesn't count if I didn't race." He protested.

"You're only saying that because you lost." She countered.

"I am not a sore loser."

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

* * *

**Heyyyyyyyy guyyyyyyssss! Oh my god I am sooooooo sorry about the wait. I have just had so much work lately. First, my grandmother went off her meds so we had to deal with that. Then I was moving dorms. Then I wasn't moving. Then I have three papers and two projects due by next week. I haven't had much time to write. But since I finally finished this chapter, I'm going to post it. Obviously. Still so sorry.**

**Anyways, what do you guys think? Leave a review and tell me all your thoughts. Good thoughts, bad thoughts, even little mini thoughts. Anything. Hell, tell me what you thought about the Superbowl.**

**I hope you all liked this chapter. I can't promise regular updates, I have a much heavier workload this semester, but I will update when I can. I promise. Until next time. Adieu mon chers.**


End file.
